Lost Item
by caffeinatedraindrop
Summary: It's been over a year since the war ended. Despite the fact that Dimitri had kept his promise as the new king by proving the innocence of Duscur in the tragedy, Dedue continued to be mistreated. Inspired by a lost item, and with the help of all her friends, Byleth is determined to put and end to it once and for all.


Inspired from the many rambling between queenofowls and I. Let's go, team BYDUE!

* * *

Following the success of the mission, Dedue returned to Garreg Mach monastery and headed to the stables to return his horse to its stall. As he passed a stable boy, he could hear the man scoff at him, muttering an insult under his breath. He paid him no mind; after all, this was nothing new for him—expected it, even. Despite the fact that Dimitri had proven the innocence of his people months after being crowned king, the prejudice towards him continued.

Such was the way of life, he supposed. But Dedue is not deterred. He has hope that there will come a day when they—not just Duscur, but all foreigners alike—will no longer face such discrimination.

Careful to avoid aggravating an injury he'd received a few days ago, he began to remove his horse's gear.

He had been assisting Claude and Lorenz for the past two weeks to flush out a group of Almayran rebels. It had seemed to be an impossible task. There was no trial, no evidence. It was if the group were ghosts. But following a lead, they were surveying an area by Fodlan's Throat when they were attacked. Amidst the battle, Dedue had taken an arrow to the shoulder that had been intended for the former house leader.

Dedue cannot help but chuckle to himself at the memory of how frantic the men had been after the battle. The injury was not serious, yet they responded as if he was on death's door. The fear in the both the men's eyes were real. Even odder was the interaction amongst the Golden Deer duo.

_"Dammit, Dedue!" Claude had yelled, pacing in front of him while he was being treated by the healer. "You just HAD to take an arrow for me? You couldn't have just let it hit me?" He pointed a finger at him, accusingly. "Do you want me to suffer? I'd rather an arrow to the chest than have to deal with the teach's wrath. How am I going to explain this to her?"_

_"Your concern is... admirable, but I am not gravely injured." Dedue had said, trying to comfort the man. Byleth would understand, why would she not? These were expected given the nature of the mission and his position._

_"He's right, you know." Lorenz grumbled, glaring at the bowman. "You SHOULD have let it hit him." Lorenz marched up towards Claude, grabbing him by his shoulder. "Of all the places you decide to look for a rebel group, you just HAD to pick the one where there was actually..." The man stopped himself mid-sentence, both looking towards Dedue, his eyes on them. The man groaned, letting go of Claude to push his lavender hair back. He shot a dirty glare at his former classmate. "I blame you. This is YOUR fault, Claude! For someone who's supposed to be 'all-seeing', how do you manage to overlook this? Can't believe we found a group. Goddess, help us... when the time comes, I'll be sure to tell her it was YOUR doing."_

Dedue had been confused by their banter. After all, their mission objective was to locate the group; which they did, and with very much success. Regardless of the confusing remarks and the arrow to a shoulder, he had found it entertaining. It was always amusing to see the effect their professor still had on them.

Patting his horse on the nose, he exits the stable.

Though the stars had begun to sprinkle the night sky, Dedue knew he would be able to find both the Archbishop and her advisor still at work and headed in their direction. Even with the war's end, there was much they had to do. They'd come a long way from where they started just over a year ago, but he and his friends still needed to work hard to maintain the peace and stability of the new world they were trying to forge together.

When he arrived at the Audience Chamber, however, he found only Seteth seated in the Advisory Room. He cleared his throat to draw the attention of the man.

"Ah, Dedue." He greeted him, standing from where he was seated. "Welcome back."

"Seteth." A nod. "I came to deliver the charters and deliver my report." Dedue could not help but look over his shoulder. Maybe he had just missed her when he entered, as unlikely as that would be. After all, when Byleth was in the room, sometimes, she's all he can see—all he _wants_ to see.

"The Archbishop," Seteth began, as if knowing his thoughts, "has retired early for the night." Dedue turns his attention back at the man now approaching him. "I can take those from you, and if there is nothing of emergence to report, you can provide me with the gist of it and we will expound further in the morning." His former professor smiles, taking the sealed scrolls. He nods.

After a _very_ brief summary, Seteth directs him to the door. "You get some rest, Dedue. As patient as she is, we cannot leave the Archbishop waiting any further."

Dedue gives the man a small smile in return, a low bow, then turned to make his way towards his room. Even though he was no longer a student, Seteth continued to watch out for him.

There was an incident a few months back where a kitchen staff had thrown an insult towards Dedue in the presence of Seteth who was quick to intervene. The advisor had threatened to dismiss a kitchen employee for the remark and demanded that he give an apology; Dedue had told him that it was not necessary. Seteth yielded. Or so he had thought. But, the following day, the Church Advisor _and _the Archbishop lead a mandatory seminar for the staff about the repercussion of discrimination in the work place. While Seteth had been tame, Byleth was not.

_"Such impudence," she stressed heavily, "will not be tolerated within my monastery and the consequences will come swiftly."_

There had been no tone in her voice, no expression on her face, and yet all those around her could feel the seriousness of the matter. Though the incidences lessened, they were still present. But the way she'd looked at him during the seminar, so possessively… so protectively. She was a goddess—_his_ goddess. And when it had concluded, Dedue led her away to their bedroom where he worshipped her… every inch of her; with his words, his hands, his lips, and his body.

Dedue trembled at the memory and hurried his pace.

But as he was about to turn in the direction of their bedroom, he realized the doors to the star terrace was open and instead turned his attention outside. There, standing under the moonlight, was Byleth. She stood at the top of the steps in front of the obelisk, her back facing him and her eyes towards the sky.

She must have been in deep thought as she did not notice his approach. He's glad she hadn't. He didn't always have the luxury to stare at her backside. She had removed most of the archbishop's attire, save for the long, luminescent gown that took the shape of her body before flaring out at her knees. Without a cloak to conceal it, his eyes could admire her exposed flesh, straying to the single beauty mark in the center of her lower back. He learned, early on, that if he kissed it or touched it, Byleth would purr.

It had been two weeks since they'd last been together and the need to touch her grew. He removed his armor-plated gloves and gently placed them on the floor. The slight tilt in her head indicated she was aware of his presence now, but made no move to face him. Such was her game. He stopped short of one step before he wrapped an arm around her slim waist, making sure to first brush his finger over her mark. She shivers.

The height difference between Dedue and Byleth was quite laughable. At the beginning of their relationship, they had had an awkward period of trying to figure out what worked best for them. They tried different positions, different methods. Was it easier for Byleth to stand on a chair or for Dedue to bend his knees and lean forward? Take it how one will, eventually, they found a way.

And when her head fell back into his chest and tilting ever so slightly to the right, he lowers to plant a soft and lingering kiss at the nape of her neck before resting his chin on her head. Byleth sighs, raising her hands to rest on his.

They stay like this for a few moments before she begins to shift. He does not release her, only loosens his grip, his hands falling to her hips as she turned to face him now. Even with the few extra inches of height the step provided her, she still needed to look up at him.

There is something in her eyes, but cannot decipher what. "How were you received?" She asks. He says nothing unsure of what she is asking. She lifts a hand to his face and presses again. "When you arrived… was there," she pauses, "anything to report?" Still, he is uncertain.

"Seteth has received the charters." He tries; her brows furrow. "And suggested we discuss the specifics tomorrow." Her eyes close slowly, and now the corner of her lips twitch downward briefly. Nope, that wasn't it either.

Dedue tries to think on what it is she is asking from him. Unable to figure it out, he opens his mouth to simply ask her directly. But she shakes her head and looks up into his eyes. She pulls away and he lets her go, but her hand stays on his cheek. Her gaze flits around his face, as if looking for something. Whatever it was, she doesn't find it and eventually settles on his lips.

Her fingertips begin to trail from his cheek, down his neck, down a path that eventually lead her hand into his.

"Come. I've prepared a bath for you." She take a few steps forward, pulling at him gently.

He turns, but does not move with her. She looks back and stares up at him, her eyebrow slightly raised.

"Is that an order, Archbishop?" He asks, pulling her back towards him to bring her hand to his lips, kissing each knuckle.

She frowns and turns her nose up at him. She forces her brows together in an attempt to look angry, but her eyes twinkle at his playfulness.

"If you delay any further, _captain_, I'll file this as insubordination."


End file.
